Christmas with Batman

As I chew on my miniature tree-shaped cooking-chocolate from the fifth window of my advent calendar I have to ask myself, “So just what does Captain America have to do with Christmas, anyway?”

Is it maybe because Santa – or at least the image of Father Christmas we have today – was apparently invented by the American Coca-Cola Company?

Or possibly because the Jolly Fat Man’s red and white suit, combined with the blue of his freezing cold Northern Polish skin colour, is the same as the Yankee flag?

Or is it, as so many of those unhappy Occupy Wall Street campers would no doubt rant, because Christmas and all it stands for has been hijacked by the heinous marketing department henchman working for the bastard capitalist bosses?

I don’t care, really, but is it too much to ask for an actual yuletide-themed advent calendar?

Unless you’re willing to pay top-Pound for one punted as ‘traditional’ and ‘authentic’ and therefore an extra three quid or such, the answer is ‘no’ and you’ll have to be happy with Batman or Barbie or Snoop Dogg.

At the end of the day, though, the chocolate is pretty much the same cheap processed muck regardless of the picture on the front, but I’m not unhappy with that. Another Marvel-inspired ad-cal I had the displeasure of purchasing a few years back was NOT filled with elf-turds, but rather disgusting chewy gummy-type things.

Very disappointing!

But maybe comic book campness is appropriate after all, as I had to perform numerous death-defying heroics just to get the absurdly massive Christmas tree down from the loft. If I’d known it was going to be such a business I’d have dressed in spandex and got Lucy to film and post it on Yoohoo-Tube.

Wobbly ladder + (tumble-down-stairs/broken bannister) x 1 000 000 hits = a season to remember!

To add to the effect I’d have my mum-in-law at the foot of the stairs, splinters of wood raining down, mad as hell and looking like the Red Skull.

In the next few weeks I’ve got to brave it all again to retrieve the Santa outfit, so with the right planning I’ll get my shot at fleeting glory yet.

I’m not sure what’ll be more challenging: trying to find said suit in the overstuffed loft, or attempting to convince my niece and nephew that Father Christmas smells of biltong and says “howzit” and “just now” in a funny accent.

Mild-mannered blogger by night! Fat, drunk, laughing man with a sack full of half-price puzzles and board games by day!

And next year they can put my face on a calendar.